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Rewards

Severus hesitated at the doorway for a long moment before stepping into the room. The Dark Lord was by the open glass door leading out to the terrace, the summer's breeze tangling the cloth around his legs so that his bare feet were visible, starkly pale in contrast to the dark rug on which he stood. Voldemort did not speak; his white skin which should have reflected the moonlight seemed instead to repel it, so that he was only very dimly illuminated and Severus' eyes strained at the unnaturalness.

"I am not pleased, Severus." Voldemort murmured, his eyes still fixed on some point in the distant view. Snape said nothing.

"All our careful planning brought to naught. Your privileged information turned out to be quite… useless."

He turned quickly to face Severus, as though expecting him to argue. His eyes narrowed fleetingly at the lack of response.

"Well, not quite. I finally disposed of Alastor Moody. He hunted down too many of my faithful followers but no more… no more."

Severus nodded. Personally, he was not particularly grieved by Moody's death. Nonetheless, his death meant one less member of the Order of the Phoenix… and they were quickly running out of numbers. It was incredible that there had not been more casualties that night; then again, it would not be immodest to suppose that the Polyjuice Potion ploy had contributed to this. He liked to think Dumbledore would have been pleased.

His eyes met the Dark Lord's piercing stare unflinchingly.

"I am not displeased with you, Severus." he said unexpectedly, "You have been loyal and unquestionably useful."

"Indeed," he continued softly, almost as though to himself, "so preoccupied have I been with other matters that I believe I have not properly rewarded you for the service you paid me."

"My Lord, to please you is- "

"Silence." Voldemort commanded and Severus fell silent at once, watching with baited breath as Voldemort pulled out his wand with a flourish. The Dark Lord could be erratic in his moods; a reward could turn into a punishment in the space of a single breath.

"It is my wish to reward you."

Snape swallowed thickly, rather unsettled by the pleasantries. Then, without warning, Voldemort was rising into the air. No words had been spoken, only a nearly imperceptible tap of his wand gave testimony to his use of any known form of magic. Severus gaped as the Dark Lord glided around him.

"Well?"

He asked with a hint of impatience in his voice as he finished his circuit around Snape.

"It is… most extraordinary, Master."

He exclaimed quite honestly, staring at Voldemort's suspended form with wonder. Flying without the use of a broom or other magical artifact was unheard of and this was clearly no simple levitation charm.

"I am willing to teach you this little trick, if you desire it so, Severus."

Voldemort pronounced with a definite air of magnanimity.

"Come."

His fingers closed around Snape's wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. It took all his willpower not to recoil at the sudden touch; Voldemort's skin was curiously cool and dry, vaguely reminiscent of a snake's. He was dragged unceremoniously, his feet skimming the rug, to the terrace, where he felt himself pulled into the air. Voldemort's grasp did not slacken and they quickly gained height. It seemed some of the magic supporting the Dark Lord extended to him through his touch, because despite the weight of his body which should have dragged him down, he found himself oddly suspended in the air. They rose high over Malfoy manor, until the white peacocks that strutted around the garden were mere pale shadows.

Voldemort chuckled unpleasantly at Severus' white face, his grip relaxed minutely and for a moment Severus thought he might let go of him if only for the amusement of seeing his sudden drop.

However, Voldemort only signaled at him to take out his wand.

"Just a tap now," he instructed, "the wand movement is of little importance. The secret lies in the concentration of your mind and the power you possess. In fact, I would not bother attempting to teach this to anyone else, Severus." he paused meditatively, "Well, perhaps dear Bellatrix… But, no, she is too- how to put it delicately- unstable."

Severus' wand was steady in his hand as he turned his eyes to the Dark Lord for further instruction. Bellatrix boasted of having learnt the Dark Arts at the Dark Lord's knee; she would be furious when she found out their Master would not share this secret with her. The thought pleased him immensely.

"Pennipotens Spontium." Voldemort intoned with studious pronunciation. His mouth contorted in what might have been meant as a reassuring smile.

"Do not fear, I will not let you fall."

Severus wet his lips briefly, dry in the chill night air. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before attempting to cast the spell.

Nothing happened.

He couldn't stop himself from glancing at the Dark Lord whose smile had dissipated.

"Come now, Severus. Do not disappoint me."

His grip on Severus' wrist tightened uncomfortably. Snape was sure that another failed attempt would have the Dark Lord casting him off and his displeasure waiting for him on the ground.

The Dark Lord jealously guarded his knowledge, yet every so often he would consent to pass on some of his seemingly endless magical lore. It was not the first time the Dark Lord had selected him as a privileged pupil and he knew very well that lessons with the Dark Lord were exceedingly quick; either you learnt what he was teaching you immediately or- well, there were no other options.

The mildly threatening words were a strong incentive to improve his performance.

He repeated the words carefully and gave his wand a rather sharp tap, more to release some of his pent up anxiety than anything else. This time his efforts were rewarded: power rushed through him suddenly, from his feet to the crown of his head, so that for an instant he actually felt lightheaded. If he had to compare it to anything, it would be to fighting against boiling, overflowing water. He felt himself supported by some unseen force that threatened to drag him away higher into the air, so that only the Dark Lord's grasp was anchoring him.

"Well done. Now you have simply to control it."

Without further instruction he let go of Severus' arm. He instantly shot upwards, like a punctured balloon set loose before he managed to hold himself steady. Voldemort rose lazily to his level, his expression unconcerned, almost bored. Severus was sure he was growing weary of his educational venture.

Severus soon found that controlling one's movement was absurdly difficult. Simply staying put required high levels of concentration; moving in the desired direction was a veritable trial. Down, he thought irritably, I want to go down! He hurtled down falling further than he had intended. Looking up he saw the Dark Lord regarding him from above, lips twisted in an indolent smile.

"Let us take a stroll around the garden, I have another matter to discuss with you tonight."

Severus haltingly succeeded in leveling himself with the Dark Lord.

"I know you have been wondering for some time what I am planning for Hogwarts."

Snape did not deny it, half his attention on keeping pace with the his Master.

"There is no need to go through the motions of walking. "

Voldemort snapped impatiently.

"Yes, My Lord."

Severus relented immediately, coming to the sudden realization that this spell was, curiously enough, somewhat similar to the Imperius curse. He perceived clearly now he had been going about it the wrong way. This was not comparable to the meticulous pulling of strings of the puppeteer; it was the whispered command of the circus master. He glided forward.

"You have been a professor at Hogwarts for fifteen years." Voldemort continued as though there had been no interruption. "I have considered it and you will return to Hogwarts."

"As much as I have been enjoying Lucius' hospitality, I admit the idea of returning to Hogwarts does not displease me. However, you may find the rest of the staff and wizarding community less amenable, My Lord."

"Severus," Voldemort mocked, "have you a newfound concern for the opinion of others?"

"Hardly," Snape sneered, "Only the new Headmistress specifically will not be partial to my employment, I believe."

Voldemort gave a short laugh.

"That will not be a problem. You see, Minerva McGonagall will not be succeeding her beloved Dumbledore in his post. You will."

"My Lord?" Severus asked, startled. He dropped a few inches before regaining his wits.

"Yes, Severus. For too long have unfit wizards and witches run our school, it is high time for another Slytherin to sit in the Headmaster's chair. You will have this honor."

Severus inclined his head mechanically. Dumbledore had foreseen the Dark Lord's actions with his usual clarity; a lesser wizard with less experience dealing with Dumbledore might have attributed it to a trace of clairvoyance. Snape knew better. It still amazed him, at times, how thoroughly the Headmaster understood the Dark Lord who supposed himself unfathomable. It was preposterous but at that moment he could have laughed in the Dark Lord's face.

"I am most grateful, Master." he said instead.

Voldemort acknowledged his deference with an idle wave of his hand.

"I am weary of this. Let us return."

He followed the Dark Lord's smooth descent rather less gracefully, stumbling as he landed in the terrace and only just managing to catch himself before he fell headlong.

"The incantation also allows for non-verbal use. With a bit of practice you will see it comes quite naturally. In time you'll find that stepping out the window into the air is as effortless as walking out the door."

"Thank you, my Lord." Severus said simply.

Voldemort inclined his head minutely in acknowledgement.

"We shall discuss your new position presently."

Severus bowed him out the door.